


Do the Dance

by DoubleNegative



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dancing, Established Relationship, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fic, Song fic, dancepartylock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1940994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleNegative/pseuds/DoubleNegative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock finds John's taste in music appalling. They dance in the kitchen anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do the Dance

“John, are you aware you’re listening to a children’s song?”

“‘S not a kids’ song,” John said, not bothering to turn around. He was up to his elbows in dishwater, with more than a week’s worth of dishes still needing to be washed. If they had a clean spoon between them, it would be a miracle.

“It’s about _spelling_ ,” Sherlock retorted, sounding genuinely offended. Well, he probably was, the berk, but not everything could be bloody Beethoven--and having bloody Beethoven in the background did not make washing the dishes any more bearable. The latest radio pop hits, however--well, it’s not as though John was going to run out and buy the record (did they still call them records?), but a good bass line did wonders for productivity.

“It’s about dancing. And it’s a Top 40 hit,” John replied equably, stacking a few more mugs on the drainer.

“And if that’s not emblematic of everything wrong with the general populace, I don’t know what is,” Sherlock said, slamming down his empty tea mug on the counter next to John.

John just grinned. “Come on, baby, don’t you want to do the d-a-n-c-e with me?” he said, giving his hips an exaggerated wiggle in time with the beat. “It’s just as easy as A-B-C,” he added, singing along with the next line in a falsetto expressly designed to horrify Sherlock. 

Sherlock’s ensuing noise of disgust did not disappoint. “I do not,” he said stiffly.

John turned around, shaking soapy water off his hands. “Well, now I know you’re lying. You love to dance.” He looped one arm around Sherlock’s waist, reeling him in and giving his hips another shake. 

Sherlock sniffed. “I’m not sure this qualifies as dancing.”

“Why don’t you show me how it’s done, then?” John said, smiling up at him and letting some of the heat pooling low in his stomach infuse his voice.

“I’ll do my best, but this appalling music makes it difficult.” Sherlock’s tone remained arch, but John could see his pupils dilating, could feel his pulse increasing. He slipped his hand down to squeeze Sherlock’s arse, grinning at the way it still made him gasp, even after three years.

“You’re a genius; you’ll manage,” John said. He let his voice drop a bit lower. “Come on, Sherlock Holmes. Teach me how to dance.” He was flirting shamelessly now, and Sherlock, god love him, was eating it up. It had been hard, at first, when they’d first gotten together. Sherlock wasn’t used to being flirted with, and worse, he wasn’t used to John’s flirting being anything other than a reflexive reaction to an attractive person, a convenient way of smoothing over social encounters. It had taken months for Sherlock to realize that John’s continued flirting--even after they’d gotten each other into bed--stemmed from genuine desire, not mockery, and that beneath the light-heartedness lay a steadfast devotion.

But now--now John could lower his voice and bat his eyes and spout cheesy pick up lines that left them both grinning even as they fumbled at each other’s clothes and gasped their pleasure into warm bare skin. Now John could sashay ridiculously to inane pop songs and goad Sherlock into dancing with him in the middle of their kitchen, and Sherlock would let himself be swept along with it, despite the obvious transparency of John’s ploy to get his hands on Sherlock’s arse.

One last put-upon sigh (entirely feigned, John knew), and Sherlock was moving one hand to the small of John’s back and catching his hand with the other. He hugged them closer together, until they pressed against each other from thighs to chest, and let his eyes roam John’s face for a long moment. John’s heart thudded in his chest, as it always did when Sherlock fixed him with that gaze. He let Sherlock lead them in a slow, swaying circle, utterly disregarding the music still playing on the radio.

“You’re planning to seduce me, aren’t you?” he whispered, a few quiet steps later.

“Depends,” Sherlock said, all traces of his earlier scorn gone from his face. “Will it work?”

Words were an inefficient mode of communication, John decided. Kissing was far more to the point.

**Author's Note:**

> For the dancepartylock fest on Tumblr, based on "D.A.N.C.E." by Justice. Written with extreme rapidity, unbeta'd and un-Brit-picked. Have mercy, I beg of you, and do please point me in the direction of any typos.


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